


Alone

by TLK



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/F, Open ended, Vague, eh, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8000137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLK/pseuds/TLK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you mean?" You ask haltingly, keeping our eyes locked. "Why wouldn't anyone want to find themselves?"</p><p>I sit up then, wrapping my arms around my knees, chin resting atop, eyes never leaving yours.</p><p>"Because finding myself would mean I would have to forget her," I whisper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed. All errors are mine. I'm just not here at the moment emotionally so a lot of my works will be angsty or vague or just "wtf is this".
> 
> Let me know what you guys think anyways!
> 
> xoxo

"Somewhere down the road, I lost myself," I mutter, eyes closing, followed by an arm being draped over my sweaty forehead.

It's sweltering today and the AC is still broken. 

_Broken. Just like me._

"Don't worry, you'll find yourself again," you say with a hint of playfulness in your tone. 

I smile a little at your words. 

I don't have to look up to know what you're doing. You've just come home from a quick run to the market - no doubt washing the newly bought fruits at the corner store from Lexington and Main. You always did love fresh, crispy fruits and produce. And they were the only one who has the freshest and crispiest - in your opinion, of course.

I lean up on my elbows, the leather material of the couch making a tearing sound as its forcibly pried from my sweaty, sticky skin. I look at your slightly hidden face behind a curtain of perfectly styled hair even though it resembles a lion mane, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The smile from my face gone, replaced by guilt, causing the creases on my forehead to deepen as I bite my lip, choosing my words carefully.

"What if-" I lose my composure for a moment.

You pause what you're doing, looking over the dividing kitchen bar to fix confused blue eyes on stormy green ones, waiting for me to continue. The smile now gone, replaced by an unknown expression.

"-I don't want to find myself?"

You shut the water off then, hand remaining on the faucet handle, eyes never leaving mine. In the deafening silence that's permeating our shared loft, I could have sworn I heard you swallow, stalling before speaking.

"What do you mean?" You ask haltingly, keeping our eyes locked. "Why wouldn't anyone want to find themselves?"

I sit up then, wrapping my arms around my knees, chin resting atop, eyes never leaving yours.

"Because finding myself would mean I would have to forget her," I whisper.

Your hand slips from the faucet handle, back straightening, jaws tightening. The look on your face is one I cannot understand. So, I look away.

Footsteps. Jangling keys. Shoes being donned. Locks unlocking. A sigh. The slam of the door.

And once again, I'm alone.


End file.
